


equinox

by lionsenpai



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Maiden AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 23:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8944423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionsenpai/pseuds/lionsenpai
Summary: The first time, Winter met her in a dream.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rontra](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=rontra).



> au where winter's a maiden and ruby never one-shotted a dragon. it's rontra's birthday today, so i'm gifting them rarepair hell!!! :9

The land was smothered in a cruel blanket of white, skeletal trees twisting from the frozen ground in a final, useless declaration of life. Through the boughs of each darted a dozen slick, black birds, their skulls capped with white bone, their eyes red as blood. They were deathly quiet as they watched Winter approach, the little shard of ice in her chest colder than the snow climbing as high as the edge of her uniform’s boots. 

Off the path, away from the faithful stream which would lead her to the mirror-crusted lake that made her throne, the dream’s core called to her even now. But the scent of blood was stronger. The chill in the air made her taste it: copper in her mouth with every inhale, growing stronger as she drew closer to the source. 

Winter knew the cold, knew every inch of this frozen forest, the hunters which prowled it in search of prey and the deer which leapt between the trunks of trees. There were scarce few nights when the dream didn’t come, so familiar now that even the smallest perversion showed like cracks in an icy lake. An endless black waited to swallow her should it break and send her into the frigid waters beneath, but fear was a stranger to Winter here.

The wind through the trees whispered what Winter already knew, the alluring note driving her on:  _ intruder.  _

Overhead, the bare canopy grew denser, branches weaving together until there were only slivers of light to glisten against the crusted snow. The birds with their jagged claws and elongated necks watched her go, becoming more monstrous when caught in her peripheral vision, beaks full of dagger-like teeth and ridged with spines.

It would have taken less than a thought to destroy them, but rather than the origin of the corruption, theses birds were the symptom. Winter wasn’t interested in the hangers-on to whatever creature had infiltrated even here. She wanted the source.

Ironwood had always said she’d been too aggressive. His words -  _ there is a time for action and a time to wait  _ \- rang through her mind as she trudged through the thick drifts. 

Caution didn’t become her, and neither did waiting.

It was why Ironwood had confined her to the base of operations in Atlas, her presence at Beacon for the Vytal festival and the following salvage the Fall Maiden’s powers swiftly denied. All for what? A hand dealt too harshly? Winter set her jaw, ignoring the twinge of resentment in her breast. 

Whatever General Ironwood thought the best application of her abilities, here, in her own dreams, she was free to give chase to those which threatened her. 

She was free to break them between her fingers.

Stumbling from the grey shade of the wood into a clearing, Winter’s loose hair tumbled over her shoulders as she staggered to a halt. The snow shone in the light of an unobstructed sky, white and red, steam rising from the four bloodied bodies lying half concealed on the ground. 

Winter’s breath caught, but she advanced upon the fallen without a moment’s hesitation. She dropped to one knee, almost completely immersed in the snow herself, and felt for a pulse. Hot blood and the stiff fabric of a uniform -  _ familiar _ . Vigilance forgotten, she dusted away the snow covering the head. There, her own shocked expression stared back up at her from the reflective visor of an Atlesian helmet.

A glance at the rest of the body confirmed: this was a soldier, crimson and gored, the torso ripped open with cruel points. 

Snow crunched at Winter’s back, her heart skipping a beat, and she shot to her feet instinctively, the shard of power nestled in her breast blooming with life. From the dark, a gleam of amber flashed, and Winter sharpened, prickles of apprehension scraping across her neck.  

Apprehension, not fear.

Even unarmed, her hands wrought calamity with powers most couldn’t fathom, calling down blizzards and hailstorms without dust or semblance. Since Winter had become a Maiden, since the dreams began, she had possessed powers which made even the strongest of hunters nothing more than prey.

Here, in her domain, whatever creature stalked these woods had more to fear of  _ her _ . 

It was why she didn’t lash out at the first sign of movement, determined to sate her curiosity and know the monster that had killed these soldiers. 

A stag stepped into the clearing, its breath clouding as its hooves effortless broke the snow, black eyes trained on her. Recognition tickled: this was the prey these hunters - _ soldiers _ \- often pursued.

Except - its antlers, rising in a formidable crown of thorns above its head, were red, strips of meat hanging from them as if halfway through shedding them. 

When Winter’s eyes flashed back toward the soldiers, the stag advanced without haste, its head bobbing with each step, and Winter’s stance widened instinctively, the birds above all leaning forward in keen observation. 

The stag didn’t startle. With long, proud strides, it closed the distance between them, raising its head to look her right in the eyes. At this distance, it would have been a simple feat to drop its head and impale her on the end of its antlers, but a breathless fascination consumed Winter with the creature so close. Her chest constricted, the font of power within buzzing with something - something eerie like - like -

Antlers slipping past her shoulders like the vicious teeth of a trap about the shut, the stag pressed its snout to her breastbone and exhaled. Heat filled Winter’s body for the first time since she’d entered this wasteland. 

“Ah,  _ there _ you are.”

For a moment, gravity abandoned her, Winter’s lips parting in surprise as the dream seemed to quiver, a breeze carrying the scent of fallen leaves and slow decay came swiftly from the south. Above, the audience of crows - if they could be called such - started a chant of low, throaty calls, each inspiring a dozen more.

The seed of power in Winter’s chest rose into her throat, starving her of all air. For a moment, panic trickled through the confidence of dominion, Winter’s eyes watering, head spinning with new sensation.

And then it was gone. 

Winter touched her own throat, her feet solid upon the ground, the constant snowfall the only whisper of sound to be heard. Blinking back into focus, Winter found the stag was gone, but a new presence stood where it had. 

Amber gleamed from beneath lofty, dark bangs. Crimson the same hue as the blood which had been shed danced on the breeze. Black lips curled into a fearless smile. 

Though she barely reached Winter’s nose, the woman filled the vast emptiness of the forest. 

The Maiden power within Winter thumped in her chest like a second heartbeat, but her voice came strong and steady: “You’re trespassing here.”

“Oh?” The woman’s voice was lyrical, amused. She took a step forward, regardless of the scarce space between them. It was a bold declaration of disregard. “A cold welcome from the Winter Maiden. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

The corner of Winter’s mouth twitched, but at such proximity, her height allowed her to tower over the other woman, a boon she claimed without a moment’s hesitation. 

Steel blue eyes flickered over the woman, taking her in. There were few beings Winter had ever known to be able to find her here, and all of them were just like her. 

Though that didn’t explain the birds or the soldiers. 

“You’re a Maiden? I don’t recognize you.”

Even if Winter didn’t, the spark of power in her breast did. It pulsed with the attraction of a long-lost friend at the touch of the woman’s hand against Winter’s, gentle but endlessly presumptuous. 

“The Fall Maiden,” the woman explained, her eyes glinting as she pulled Winter’s hand up to her lips, kissing the back of her palm. Her head remained bowed, but she looked no more humble for it. “Or simply Cinder, if you prefer. I’ve been waiting to meet you, Winter.”

A new Fall Maiden could only mean that Ozpin’s plan had been a success, but Winter’s eyes still narrowed. Cinder’s touch exuded familiarity, but also something deeper. Like the dark waters showing between cracks in the ice, like the blood freezing on the snow around her, a chill chased the comfort from Winter’s bones.

“I haven’t heard of any success at Beacon,” Winter said. “When did you - ”

Cinder laughed, a sharp, cutting sound. “They really  _ don’t _ tell you anything, do they? A Maiden trapped in a tower - by the likes of Ironwood!”

Bristling, Winter yanked her hand away. “What are you talking about?”

“I was aware the Winter Maiden was kept under lock and key, but I hadn’t expected them to go to such great lengths to keep you  _ safe.” _ A show of teeth, vicious and mocking. “Darling,  _ Beacon _ is no more.”

Winter stared. And then she reacted.

Fingers like claws whistled through the air as a racket of startled crows screamed their surprise, but the woman - Cinder - danced away as deftly as a sprite. Her eyes blazed with the same power as Winter’s, and the faintest brush of their abilities against one another sparked like electricity in the air.  

Winter’s uniform was complete save for her belt and the scabbard clipped to it, but the snow itself rose in a wave at her call. Cinder may have been a Maiden, but she was only a visitor here, and as the denizen of this land, Winter commanded it in its entirety.

The snow swept past Cinder, solidifying into ice the moment it crested her head. As Winter approached, she sneered, the burning fire in Cinder’s amber eyes giving her an almost demonic ferocity, even encased in ice. 

General Ironwood had warned her of the assailant which had hunted the previous Fall Maiden. It was a precise, coordinated, and nearly lethal attack, he’d said. It was why he guarded her so closely, a loving strangulation which bit deeper than even her father’s disavowal. 

She wondered what he would say if he could see her now. 

Placing a hand to the thick layer of crystal which denied her Cinder’s neck, Winter only regretted that destruction here would probably not kill her in the real world.

Sharp talons clawed at Winter’s neck, the sudden screech of crows and the beat of wings right in her ear. Winter ducked away on instinct, heat scored across the nape of her neck, but the birds dropped from the air, icicles the size of Winter’s arm cut straight through them. They didn’t shed a drop of blood, but the moment they hit the snow, they began to dissolve into black ash. 

Winter grimaced, irritated she’d been taken off guard, but turned back to Cinder and was met by the sight of great fractures in the ice weeping steam. With a sound like glass shattering, the ice prison broke, and Cinder’s body surged forward, skin exuding heat like a furnace. 

Nails raked up the back of Winter’s skull, fisting in pale white locks and tugging her down to Cinder’s height. The other hand caressed the crisp fold of her collar almost lovingly, and Winter didn’t resist the sharp breath teased from her throat, her own arms encircling Cinder’s waist. Fingers tightened in the silk at the small of her back, and a palm followed the path of her spine up, aligning with the first vertebra of her neck, ready to smother any attempt at retreat. 

But Cinder wasn’t retreating. Leaning flush into every curve and plane, Cinder tilted her head until her lips brushed the shell of Winter’s ear. An inhale, the threads of eager anticipation drawn taut between them. 

“What a surprising temper from someone who embodies the cold,” Cinder murmured, her fingers dancing up Winter’s neck to dig into the lines carved by the crow’s talons. Winter winced, but only tightened her own grip on Cinder’s smaller body in response. “You would have been a formidable enemy if only General Ironwood had let you.”

The subtle warmth of Cinder’s breath chased away the remnants of frost in Winter’s veins, anger blazing. “I don’t need his  _ permission.” _

“I was hoping you’d say that, Winter. You can feel me now, can’t you?” The Maiden’s power in her chest sang, a strange resonance, like answering a call. Against her flesh, Winter could feel Cinder smile.  _ “Then come find me.” _

  
  



End file.
